


Separate the Sound

by SunflowerAro



Series: Peter Parker is a loveable idiot [2]
Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Bonding, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, The team thinks Peter is adorable, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:55:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22015240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunflowerAro/pseuds/SunflowerAro
Summary: "'Poor kid, he must be exhausted.' Peter flinched—it had happened again, the voice coming in via his headphones, music fading as the words rang through. What on Earth?"Peter sneaks out and receives an odd curse when he accosts a new villain. As it turns out, the avengers want to embarrass him even when they're not aware of it.
Series: Peter Parker is a loveable idiot [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1566292
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	1. Execute the noise

"Give it up, Vernido. You and I both know who's going to win this," Peter said, chest heaving as he held himself upright—if Vernido looked no worse for the wear, neither would he. His body was crying out though, begging for him to stop but Vernido held out, throwing hit after hit, strike after strike. Peter was winning, but only by a fraction. 

Vernido chuckled, her clawed hands pulled back, ready to strike. Yellow magic sparked in her palms as she murmured a spell to herself, a smirk making its way onto her face. Peter's eyes widened as she drew her arm back, throwing the ball of fire with such force it came speeding towards him. He shot a web out, tearing his body out of the way before it hit his chest. He winced as it scorched his calf, white hot pain sparking up his left leg. 

"It that all you've got?" He quipped, raising an eyebrow at her in false confidence. 

Vernido growled, exhaustion beginning to show in her own sagging shoulders—so he wasn’t the only actor here? In a fraction of a second, Peter had sent out numerous webs, catching her arms and legs against a wall, trapping her before she could react.

"Got you." 

She sneered at him, but could do no more as he stepped closer, determined to reinforce the webbing and tape her mouth shut—those pesky spells could free her and he doubted he could handle another battle.

" _Defarsa_ ," she whispered, her eyes shimmering a brilliant gold. A shiver went up his spine, tingling his skin, forcing goosebumps to rise. Nothing happened.

"Nice try, Vernido. It's jail time for you." He shot a web over her mouth, preventing her from using more magic. The glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes, in the crinkles surrounding them, left him unnerved. 

Sirens began to ring out in the distance, pulling his attention away from her—it was time to leave. There was nothing more he could do here.

Peter shot out a web, glancing back at her one more time, eyes narrowed in suspicion, before pulling himself away onto a rooftop as the police cars pulled up, screeching to a halt in front of Vernido. They exited the cars, guns at the ready, but she was already trapped for them. 

Peter nodded to himself—a job well done—before heading off at a limp. He had succeeded in capturing Vernido, but it had come at a price. Her nails were sharper than he gave her credit for, and those spells had been an absolute nuisance. His calf was still throbbing in pain, even more noticeably now that the adrenaline was wearing off, and numerous cuts littered his arms, as well as a particularly nasty gash on his stomach which was causing him the most pain. The skin was slowly knitting itself back together, and the bleeding had mostly ebbed off, but it still flared in pain with each step. He would need to take it slow.

He was supposed to be sleeping at the tower after a long, tedious night of studying with Mr. Stark, but he had been feeling restless, his ever-active mind urging him to go out and patrol; he hadn't done one yet tonight and had been too busy last night. So, he had listened to that voice urging him out of the window and ended up running into a new villain threatening to rise up. He had instantly dropped down, tearing the bank blueprints out of her hands—which, in retrospect, may have angered her more than he had expected and earned him more than a few of his injuries. Vernido had magic and long claws akin to freshly sharpened knives. She had gotten in a few good punches as well; his ribs could attest to that. 

Mr Stark would certainly know by now—Karen is such a snitch. As suspected, Tony Stark himself was waiting for him as he crawled back into his room in the compound, foot tapping impatiently, hands on his hips as he stood in the doorway. Light from the hallway illuminated his harsh features, but the rest of Peter's room was dark. 

"I thought you were heading to bed?" Tony raised an eyebrow.

The shadows must have been hiding his injuries, then. That was probably for the best. Karen mustn't have been a complete snitch, then. Tony had been a lot sterner ever since that incident at the park with the sinkhole and him passing out... He didn't exactly trust Peter to stay put anymore. Or to not abuse his powers. 

"Just wanted to do a quick patrol." Peter shrugged, wincing as his cuts reopened at the movement. "Actually, do you by chance have any bandaids?"

Tony sighed, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. "Kid, are you hurt?"

"Just some minor things, they'll heal up nicely. I promise I'll tell you next time I go out, okay? I just wanted to get in a quick patrol before I slept," Peter said, trying to placate the quiet fury behind Tony's glasses, in his sighs and tensed stance.

"Quick? You were out for over an hour, Peter." 

"Ah, about that. I stopped a new villain from rising." Peter grinned weakly. He was feeling a little lightheaded...

Tony shook his head in exasperation. "Come on, let's get to the med bay. Last time you said 'minor cuts' I nearly had a heart attack." He gestured for Peter to follow him. 

Peter grimaced, but acquiesced; to go against Tony Stark was a death sentence in itself. Peter trudged behind as Tony walked resolutely down the corridors, not turning back once, hands clenched. Peter's mouth formed a thin line: he was not going to enjoy this conversation.He winced at the sharp, fluorescent lights of the med bay as they walked inside, wrinkling his nose at the pungent scent of antiseptic. 

"Sit down," Tony said, back turned to him as he rummaged through a first aid kit, pulling out what he anticipated would be necessary. 

Peter hummed, settling down on the metal bench, wincing as the cold, unforgiving surface rubbed against his calf. 

Tony finally turned around. "Alright. Let's see what you did this time." 

Peter sighed internally—best get this over with. "My leg." He gestured to the charred flesh. 

Tony grimaced, but he knelt in front of Peter, eyeing the wound. "This one should heal up nicely in a couple of days; it looks bad now, though." 

He cut the fabric—Peter was glad he had worn an older suit—and peeled it off, murmuring apologies as Peter squeaked in pain. 

"This will sting." Peter nodded, but couldn't hold back a sharp inhale as Tony applied the antiseptic. Tony then wrapped his leg up, gauze pads over the worst of the wound. 

Tony stood up, raising an eyebrow. Peter acquiesced, pulling his suit up to reveal the once nasty gash—it had closed up once more, but could tear open quite easily. 

"'Minor cuts', huh?" Tony shook his head in exasperation. "Stand up."

Tony was quick to sort this wound out, applying the antiseptic to any open areas and wrapping it up gently once he was done. 

Peter studied his arms, but most of the wounds there were already fading, either stabbed over or pink, well into the healing process.

"That's the worst of it," Peter said. 

"Good." Tony sat down beside him. Peter stared at the floor, avoiding his mentor's eyes. 

"Sorry," he mumbled. 

Tony sighed. "Kid. You don't need to worry about telling me when you're hurt. Just...tell me when you're going out next time, yeah? I worry."

Why couldn't Peter just trust his mentor? Tony clearly cared about him, so why was it so hard? 

"Okay," he breathed.

Tony patted him on the shoulder. "Good. Now head to bed. I don't want to see you up and about until the morning, Pete." 

Peter's lip quirked at that. "Fine, Mr Stark. Only because you asked so nicely."

"Don't get witty with me, kid. Bed. Now." 

Peter was still smirking as he walked back to his room. He wanted to trust Tony, truly. They easily shared quick wit, their banter loud and boisterous enough to rival Tony and Bruce's. But when it got a little too personal, when Tony was worried over something Peter was too anxious to talk to him about...he closed up. He had tried to open up, but it was tough. He didn't know how. 

Peter blinked as his room came into view. When had he gotten here? He carefully lay down on the bed, cautious of his wounds; if he were to reopen one now, Tony would have his head. There was no use worrying over it now, he needed sleep. Still, he would try harder. Tomorrow. 

**

Peter woke up nauseated the next morning. His head felt fuzzy, like someone had stuffed it full of cotton, then added more for good measure, and his stomach was lurching like he was on a boat. It sucked.

He watched his clock blearily as time passed by. Noon approached when Tony finally entered the room. 

"Hey, Underoos. How're the 'minor cuts'?" He said, eyes lit up with mirth.

Peter groaned, pulling the covers further over his head. Everything was too loud, too much.

Tony was beside him in an instant, a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Hey, what's wrong, kiddo?"

"'M feeling like shit," Peter mumbled weakly. 

"Language. Is there anything I can do to help?" 

Peter thought for a moment. "Can you close the curtains? I think I need more sleep."

He felt Tony leave the bed, heard him cross the room. The light pressing against his eyelids painfully faded and his headache relented slightly.

"Thanks, Mr Stark." 

The bed dipped once more. "I've told you, just call me Tony, kid." 

Peter nodded, his mind fading out once more as sleep began to overtake him. 

"Get some rest, Pete." Tony smoothed the covers over him, pushed his hair out of his face. Peter smiled faintly before he fell under.

**

Peter woke up hours later, evening sun faintly streaming in through the gap in the curtains, dust mites floating about above him. He looked around the room blearily as the events of yesterday returned to him. At least his body wasn't in agony any longer. His nausea had faded, headache alleviated, and most wounds had healed up completely. 

Peter sat up gingerly, pressing a hand to his stomach over the angry red line that was once a gash. That one still ached faintly, but at least it had sealed. It was getting late, he should head downstairs to let Tony know he was okay and to eat—his stomach was beginning to grumble in malcontent. 

He stood carefully, grateful his wounds didn't protest, and headed out of the door in search of food. The harsh fluorescent lights hit him and he squinted, covering his eyes with a hand as he stepped into the elevator, descending to the kitchens and living area of the compound. 

The screeching of the elevator pierced his ears and he cringed; his spider senses were messing up again. He pulled his phone and some headphones out of his pocket, selecting his softest playlist for moments like this and sighing contentedly when gentle guitars replaced the scrape of metal against metal. 

A faint ding through his headphones signalled the elevator's doors opening. Peter stepped through, watching for a moment as it closed back up before continuing on his path to the kitchens at a much slower pace than before—it was easier to take everything slowly when his senses were fried. 

As he turned the final corner, Captain America came into view, leaning against the kitchen counter and munching on some toast. He turned to Peter as he entered the kitchen, a grin breaking across his face. 

"Peter! You're feeling better, then?" At Peter's confused look, he added, "Tony told me what happened." 

Peter nodded, digging through the pantry. "Some sleep helped, so I'm feeling much better now, Mr. Rogers." He grinned to himself at the quiet sigh of exasperation he heard.

"You don't need to call me that, Peter."

"Call you what, Mr. Rogers?" Peter turned back to him, a bag of pop tarts in his hands. Steve rolled his eyes, but gestured for him to continue with what he was doing. 

' _Boy, that kid is adorable._ ' Peter blinked, slotting the pop tarts in and turning back to Steve.

"Sorry?" He asked, taking out an earbud. 

Steve turned back to him from where he was watching the television. "Hm? I didn't say anything, Peter."

What? 

"Never mind, must've been my music." Steve nodded, turning back to the news. 

' _Poor kid, he must be exhausted._ ' Peter flinched, but made no noise. It had happened again, the voice coming in via his headphones, music fading as the words rang through. What on Earth?

Maybe he was exhausted and his mind was telling him to go back to bed. Between the whole Vernido experience, then becoming ill, he probably needed it. Although that didn't explain the first one…weird. His mind was playing tricks on him today, then?

He jumped when the toaster popped up—man, his senses were fried. Some more sleep would do him good. After food, of course. Steve raised an eyebrow at his reaction, so Peter shot him a grin, moving over to the toaster, back facing Steve to avoid what he likely wanted to ask. Thankfully, Steve let his oddness slide.

Peter ravenously ate, rinsing off his plate after and washing his hands before heading back up to his room, avoiding any further prying conversations with Steve and, thankfully, not running into Tony. Excessive mothering was the last thing he needed at the moment. 

He flinched at the 'ding' of the elevator, its shrillness piercing his ears again, and slipped back into his blessedly quiet room, gently shutting the door behind him and all but collapsing into the bed, slipping into blissful unconsciousness. 

**

Peter awoke feeling infinitely more refreshed, all evidence of his wounds vanished aside from a now faint pink line on his abdomen. His senses were still a little...sensitive, sadly. He cringed as a door slammed shut on the floor below him. Stupid spider senses.

Slipping his headphones back in, he opened several new messages from Ned. 

' _Dude, we should totally hang this weekend once you're done at the compound. It's been ages._ ' Peter smiled softly. It was true that they hadn't been seeing each other as much, even if it was the summer holidays. Between holiday homework and avenger work, Peter had been swamped. 

' _You good? It's been like, forever._ ' Peter rolled his eyes fondly, typing out a new message to soothe his friend’s anxieties.

' _I'm good, just had a run in with some new aspiring villain. We should totally meet later today so I can tell you about it, though._ ' 

Almost instantly, his phone chimed. ' _Awesome! You can stay the night and we can watch movies and eat junk food._ ' 

Peter's eyes lit up at the prospect. Ned knew how to deal with him when his senses got out of whack, so it would be the perfect night. He could come back to the compound tomorrow to finish up any work Tony had for him. 

Peter had finished packing his bag in moments and he slung it over his shoulder, heading down the elevator once more. The screech of the metal wasn't nearly as jarring this time, but Peter wasn't willing to risk taking his headphones out just yet. 

The doors opened to reveal Tony, his face hard, tapping his foot on the ground impatiently. 

'Shit.' Peter thought. 

"Hey, Mr. Stark." He gave him a shaky wave, stepping out of the elevator when it chimed in protest of his lingering. 

"Where are you heading, kid?" Tony eyed his shoulder bag. 

"Ned wants to spend some time with me, plus I needed a break before we get back into researching." 

Tony nodded slowly. "So, you're not headed out on patrol, then?" Oh, so that's what this was about.

Peter shook his head. "Nope, no patrol tonight. I'll even leave Karen on so you can track my whereabouts if you want."

" _Only_ if you do that. How are your injuries?" Tony's tone became worried, eyebrows pinched together at the very thought of Peter being hurt. Such a mother. Peter had to refrain from rolling his eyes—he'd never be able to leave if he did.

"They're fine, don't worry. All healed up." Tony nodded in approval, finally relaxing his intense stare. 

"Good. Let's keep it that way, yeah?" 

"Will do, Mr. Stark." 

"Seriously, just Tony will do." Tony said, pinching the bridge of his nose, head shaking lightly. 

Peter snorted, but covered it with a cough. "Of course. See you later!" 

' _God, that kid is precious._ ' Peter faltered in his step as the words came in through his earbuds, but continued walking as he felt Tony's gaze linger on him. What the...? This one sounded vaguely like his mentor. But it wasn't right. It was deeper than Tony's usual voice, clearer. Come to think of it, the first time had sounded a little like Steve... 

He shook his head. Now wasn't the time to dwell on this, not when he had a night planned with Ned. It wasn't impacting him negatively, even if it was weird. His spirits lifted at the thought of spending the rest of the day with his best friend and he quickened his step, turning his music up as he entered the city, any thoughts of the weird voices left behind at the compound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can blame my friend for this weird idea. Part two will be up tomorrow.  
> Thanks for reading!  
> Title is from the Autoheart song, 'Heartbreaker.'


	2. Separate the Sound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's more obvious than he thinks, with a side of Ned being the best bro.

"Peter!" Peter winced at his friend's boisterous tone as the door was torn open, Ned’s eager eyes appearing—had he been waiting this entire time?

"Hey, Ned," he replied, voice soft—it was too loud even to his own ears.

Ned tilted his head, eyes widening. "Spidey-senses messed up?" he asked in a gentler tone. At Peter's nod he continued, "no problem. Come see what I have planned!" How he could sound so quiet yet so effervescent was beyond Peter's understanding. 

He swept him inside, shutting the door with a soft 'click' before rushing into the living room, gesturing extravagantly to the pillow fort he had set up, several bowls of popcorn and assorted sweets set up. Two pizza boxes sat in front of them. 

Peter turned to Ned, eyes wide. "Dude, you're amazing."  
  
Ned just slung an arm around him, picking at his nails with a smirk on his face. "I know."

Peter rolled his eyes, gently shoving him. "Let's eat, then?" 

Ned nodded eagerly, dropping into his spot and digging into the pizza, Peter following his lead. 

"Oh, I forgot to take these out," he mumbled to himself, reaching down to unplug his earphones.

' _I'll have to be extra quiet so I don't—_ '

' ** _hurt Peter's ears._** ' 

They both blinked, glancing around the room in search of the voice which sounded suspiciously like Ned's. Peter didn't like where this was going.

They glanced at each other. 

' ** _What the fuck?_** ' The voice summed up the situation perfectly.

Ned's eyes widened. "Those were my thoughts." 

Peter had had a sickening feeling that was the reason. He grimly turned to Ned.

"I think Vernido cursed me," he admitted sheepishly. How had he not guessed that sooner?

"Wait, what?" 

Peter sighed, picking at the frayed edges of his blanket. "She shot some sort of spell at me. At the time it did nothing, but I think the effects have started showing?" 

Ned stared at him, contemplating. "I didn't hear it before now, though?"

"Yeah, it’s only ever been though my...headphones." He stared at the offending device in disbelief. What kind of weird curse?

"So, it projects other's thoughts through your headphones, or out loud if they're not available?" Ned guessed.

"I think so." Peter scrunched his face up in confusion. "What the fuck?"

"Hey! Language. Cap would be ashamed of you." 

Peter gave him a sidelong stare, turning back to his still unplugged headphones. 

"Think something regarding me," Peter said.

Ned out a hand to his chin in thought. 

' ** _Peter is a nerd._** ' 

Ned snorted, falling back into the pillows.

Peter groaned, dragging a hand down his face. He plugged the headphones back in, inserting one into an ear. "This officially sucks, man."

Ned sat back up, placing a gentle hand on Peter's back. "Hey, don't worry. I'm sure they'll have something at the compound to fix this."

At the thought of the compound, Peter flushed. If he was hearing their thoughts then they thought of him as...cute. He couldn't find it in himself to tell Ned that. 

He offered Ned a grimace. "You're right. Movies?"

Ned grinned and clapped him on the back. "Movies!" 

** 

Peter trudged back to the compound, headphones still in, playing a much louder playlist. Even so, he could still hear the thoughts of people passing by him, including a particularly vicious thought when he bumped into someone. He kicked away pebbles as he walked along the footpath, the evening sun filtering in through the trees to his left, leaving the grass speckled with emeralds. A gentle breeze blew though his hair and he huffed, tugging it back into place. What was he going to do?

Nerves built up in his gut, falling into his stomach like the leaves scattering the path in front of him, filling him with dread. He wanted to fix this issue, break the curse. But to do so would mean he would be admitting that he heard their thoughts in the first place, and his face still bloomed with embarrassment at the mere thought of confessing that Steve Rogers — The Captain America! — thought he was, 'adorable'.  
  
He raked a hand through his hair, worrying his lip between his teeth as he weighed the two options. He couldn't handle confession without embarrassing himself, so he could wait it out a bit, just until he got used to the idea of them thinking him, 'cute', then he could ask for help when his face was less likely to burst aflame at the mere thought. He released his hair from his hands—had he been pulling at it again? May would kill him—and clapped them to encourage himself. The plan was fool proof. What could go wrong?

**

So much apparently. 

He had unceremoniously dumped his bag at the foot of his bed, dropping onto it only to be called out to by FRIDAY before he could even lie down. They had organised a movie night and he was to attend. Something told him Tony had gotten the idea after he mentioned hanging out with Ned the previous day—and probably to keep an eye on him. Now that he thought about it, a patrol seemed inviting...

"Peter, please be hasty, they have set the living room up and are waiting impatiently," FRIDAY's voice cut through his musings and he sighed. Best get it over with then.  
  
Peter trudged to the elevator, one headphone in playing soft music. He still wanted to hear the rest of them, he just didn't want the burden of their thoughts being played for everyone to hear. At least this way the others wouldn't need to suffer as well. He could take that upon himself; he was the one who got himself cursed.

The elevator chimed and Peter held back a heavy sigh: most of the avengers were there, all in comfortable clothing — even Thor had forgone his battle armour for pyjama bottoms and a shirt. 

"Ah, Parkerson! Come join us. The food will be getting cold soon." Thor gestured widely to an array of take out in front of them—Chinese food, nice. 

"Coming!" Peter called out, quickening his step at their eager eyes. He settled between Tony and Natasha — the only spot available, likely Tony's doing.

"Heya, Pete. How was last night?" 

Aside from the realisation of his being cursed? "It was good." He nodded, lips quirking up at the thought of his best friend and his antics. Ned was supportive and silly, the best of both worlds, truly.

Tony nodded. "Good, now prepare for part two, a full-on sleepover. More food than you could wish for, and carefully selected Disney movies chosen by yours truly."

"Thanks, Mr. Stark." Peter grinned wider when Tony rolled his eyes in exasperation. 

' _Damn, I love that kid._ ' Drifted in through his headphone. Peter's eyes widened and he ducked his head, cheeks on fire. He'd forgotten about that stupid curse and hadn't prepared himself for any unwanted thoughts leaking into his mind. Of course, they were all sappy, because he hadn't blushed enough today.

Tony looked at him weirdly, gaze lingering, before pushing the thought to the side and shrugging. 

"Everybody settle in. It's going to be a long night!" Tony called out. Clint cheered, while Natasha allowed the faintest of smiles to tug at her lips before it was wiped away. 

Tonight would be fun! No more worrying about curses, or being embarrassed. 

**

For the most part, it was fun. Tony had set up Coco to play first while they all dug into the food and got comfortable. Peter kept his music at a minimum, the guitars almost unheard as the movie played. 

Next, after a few moments to dry their tears eyes, Tony had chosen treasure planet. It seemed a little too personal, to both Tony and Peter, which would have gone unnoticed save the excessive thoughts pouring in from Tony. 

' _Jim reminds me of Peter, if I was Silver…_ '

' _I could see Peter doing something that cute._ '

' _I'd adopt Peter given the chance._ '

Peter had squeaked at the last one, ducking his head to avoid Tony's curious eyes. 

"You alright, kid?" Tony whispered.

Peter nodded, not trusting himself to speak. This was significantly worse than he had imagined! Not to mention the thought he had heard from Natasha when he'd bumped her hand earlier. 

' _He's so polite. I could squish him._ ' What did that even mean? Was it threatening or another avenger not taking him seriously?

He refrained from dragging his hand over his face. That wouldn't bode well for him, not with Tony right beside him. As it was, he couldn't stop biting his lip, anxiously awaiting another embarrassing thought. 

"Pete?" Peter blinked, turning back to Tony.

"Sorry, what was that, Mr. Stark?"

"I said," Tony drawled, “what did you want to watch next?" 

"Oh! Um, I'm not sure. What are the options?" 

Tony rolled his eyes. "If you had been listening, you would know. And why're you listening to music at a time like this?"

Tony reached over to take out his headphone and Peter reeled back. If Tony took it out, the rest of the avengers would hear those thoughts. It would be horrendously embarrassing. 

Worry clouded Tony's eyes. "Pete?"

"I—um." God, he was terrible at thinking on the spot. Battling with villains, running on pure adrenaline and reflexes? That he could do. But fabricating an excuse on a whim? Nope. 

Natasha sighed from behind him, tearing the headphone out before they could blink. 

' ** _Is something wrong with Pete?_** ' 

They all flinched, several of them jumping up into action, glancing around for a threat. Only Tony and Peter remained seated. Peter had his head in his hands, hiding from their prying eyes once they realised what had happened. 

Tony was staring at him, he could see that much through his fingers. 

"Pete?"

Peter gave him a sheepish smile. "So, I may have been cursed?" 

"You were what?" Tony's eyes widened. 

Peter cringed. This would suck.

"I don't know, but I think Vernido cursed me?" Tony glared at him, gesturing for him to elaborate then crossing his arms. The other avengers were still looking for a potential enemy and talking amongst themselves. It was just the two of them.

"It started two days ago, after I'd gotten better. I can hear people’s thoughts regarding me through my headphones, or out loud for everyone to hear if those aren't available." Tony gave him a look of disbelief. "I know, it's so stupid."

Tony shook his head. "Why didn't you tell us, kid? We could've helped you earlier." 

Peter looked down. "It's super embarrassing. Some of the stuff I heard, that is." 

Tony's eyes widened and his face went red. "You mean you heard..." 

Peter nodded slowly, refusing to look his mentor in the eye.

' ** _Oh shit, Peter knows that I thought—_** '

"Put the headphones back in!" Tony cut off his thought as the rest of the avengers turned to them. Peter hurriedly jammed the cord back in, grateful for the comfort the music brought, even if it was quieted by the multitude of thoughts dropping in through the cord. This curse sucked.

Tony stood, grabbing his arm. "Let's discuss this elsewhere." He wouldn't look at Peter as they raced over to the elevator, as they stood in silence awaiting the arrival of the roof. 

Tony let go as they emerged and he headed to sit on one of the benches upon the roof, head dropping into his hands. 

"How do you always get yourself into these messes, kid?" Tony sighed, deep and long, pulling his phone out of his pocket and tapping away. 

"I've updated Bruce so he can look for a way to break this curse. Knowing him, it'll only be a matter of time." Tony patted the spot beside him, still staring into the floor. 

Peter hesitated, eyes flicking back to the elevator—he could dash back down, disappear instead of having this talk, instead of dealing with it... But then Tony would just follow him with his suit and he wouldn't even be back to square one, nope he'd be further back. Tony would tear into him for trying to avoid this. 

Pulling himself together mentally, he took each agonising step forward, sinking down beside Tony, fidgeting with his hands. A breeze passed through them, making him shiver slightly and draw his jacket closer. The clouds covered the sun, darkening the world around them. 

"Pete, I—" Tony broke off, grimacing. "I want you to be able to trust me, especially with things like this. Am I too...insensitive?"

Peter's head shot up, eyes widening. "No! No of course not. It's just..." He looked back down at his hands, picking at his nails. "I'm not good at trusting people. Not since..." he let out a breath.

"Oh." Tony whispered. 

"I'm trying, I swear! It's just hard sometimes. I wanted to tell you, but then I started to overthink it and I thought I could deal with it by myself. I'm sorry." Peter lowered his head, biting his cheek. God, he was stupid. He jumped at a warm hand on his shoulder, looking up into Tony's worried eyes.

Tony wrapped his other arm around him, pulling him closer. "Listen to my thoughts, Pete." 

Peter nodded, slowly returning the gesture, burying his face in Tony's shoulder as the thoughts washed over him, comforting waves flowing through him. 

' _Kid, you mean so much to me. I know it's hard, but I won't judge you for anything. And I mean it. I'll never be mad, I promise._ ' Peter sniffled, tightening his grip. 

"Thanks, Mr. Stark."

"Anytime, kid."   
They separated, Peter wiping at his eyes. Tony gave him an encouraging smile.  
  
"Never be afraid to be honest with me, kid. You're part of the family now, and we look after each other." Peter nodded, a smiling gracing his lips. 

Tony's phone chimed, causing Peter to jump. Tony raised an eyebrow. 

"Sorry. My senses are a little... well, sensitive." Tony hummed, pulling his phone out of his pocket. 

"Bruce found out how to break it. Told you he was quick." Tony said, voice softer than before. Peter's heart lifted at the small yet meaningful gesture. The people in his life were amazing. 

"Awesome. Let's head back down, then?" Peter asked. Tony nodded. 

"So, you going to explain those thoughts I heard earlier?" Peter smirked. 

Tony paused, flushing bright red. "Never mention those to the others."

"Or?" Peter's grin widened. 

"Or I'll tell them you still sleep with a stuffed bunny." Tony raised an eyebrow, challenging him.

Peter gasped, putting a hand to his chest. "Mr. Stark! You wouldn't."

"It'll be our little secret, then."

Peter huffed. "Fine."

They shook on it, stepping into the elevator.

"Hey, did you know Cap thinks I'm cute?"

"What?!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought if you want :)  
> Until next time!


End file.
